


Never Alone

by SomewhatTookish



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhatTookish/pseuds/SomewhatTookish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quite contrary to what he once thought, Bilbo finds that he is very much at home in his new surroundings with his new friends. But something seems to be bothering him, something bad. It feels as if all this is too good to be true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: This is my first fanfic on here as well as being my first COMPLETED fanfic. This was more to get practice than anything, so I apologize if anything seems inconsistent and what not.

It was the most peaceful night Bilbo had ever experienced in all his years, and under the strangest of circumstances. Usually, a peaceful evening meant sitting by the fire with a cup of tea and a good book, quite comfortable in his hobbit-hole, away from the world outside. Tonight, he sat in no chair, had no book and had no cup of tea, but at least there was a fire going. He was as far away from his home as he ever could be. In place of his books he listened to 13 dwarves tell tales of when they were young and foolish; about how they tried in vain to woo young dwarf women long before they had grown into their beards, or how they would sneak into the forges when they weren’t old enough to be in such as place, fitting into cracks and holes smaller than the hobbit himself! They had tea, but it was much stronger and even slightly thicker than the tea that came from the Shire. The fire flicked and crackled and filled the air with a pleasant burning smell, oddly similar to the old hearth of Bag-End. Yes, they were odd circumstances indeed, for but a week or so ago he would never have even ventured beyond the borders of Hobbiton, and now he has seen Rivendell and fought through hordes of orc and goblins alike. The best part of tonight, however, was every now and then a chill wind would blow by and tickle the tips of the hobbit’s ears, and he would look up and see the stars. Oh, the sheer vastness of them. You could see the stars back in the Shire, yes, but never like this, never so whole and unobstructed. The Took in him, which seemed to writhe and stir all his settled years, seemed to finally be at peace. Bilbo wrought up a tired smile. He was happier than he ever had been, but a prevailing sadness was started to work its way into his heart; an expected sadness, for he didn’t want this to ever end, but he knew it soon would. He would help the dwarves gain back their home, and eventually he would have to go back to his little hole in the ground, which seemed so lifeless and stale compared to all this. Gandalf truly meant it when he said Bilbo would not be the same when he came back.

  
The night grew old, and eventually all merrymaking and storytelling had to come to an end. The fire was extinguished and the beds laid out. They kept close together for warmth, and Bilbo was extremely thankful, for a hobbit is a hobbit, and they do not fare well in cold temperatures. One dwarf stayed awake as per usual to keep guard, and off all of them it was Thorin. A foolish thing really, Bilbo thought, Thorin needed to rest and regain his strength having sustained his wounds. Bilbo had offered to keep watch, an idea which the rest of the company seemed to agree on, since he hadn’t taken on the role of watchman since the journey started, but Thorin was a stubborn dwarf and insisted that Bilbo sleep.

  
But Bilbo didn’t sleep, he stayed awake, watching the last remaining embers of the fire go out, then looking to the Lonely Mountain in the distance. Even in the dark it was still as plain as visible as it was by day. Oh, how could he sleep thinking of all the riches and wonders that lay in the mountain. The dragon was more an afterthought right now, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could.

  
Eventually his gaze drifted off, staring into nothingness as all sorts of wonderful thoughts and new found memories filled his head. He thought of the stories the other dwarves shared, and how they reminded him of his childhood days. Those were certainly the golden years of his youth, running through hills, leaping fences, playing tricks on his all too strict father, who would give him a right bad scolding afterwards. His mother, however, would reward him silently, giving him cakes and toys as a reward for his foolishness; the Took in him came from her after all.

  
“I thought you were supposed to be sleeping, hobbit.” Thorin announced. His voice gave Bilbo a violent start, and it was only then that he realized that he was laughing at his old memories.  
“I can’t sleep.” Bilbo replied. Thorin huffed, but in the pale evening light Bilbo could see that Thorin was smiling. That made Bilbo quite happy, perhaps a little more than usual.  
“Mind if I join you?” Bilbo said. Thorin looked at him a moment before nodding and looked away. The hobbit gingerly wriggled his way out of his bedroll, stepping quite nimbly and silently through the snoring dwarves. Thorin was smirking by the time Bilbo reached him. “You may still make a fine burglar, hobbit.” Bilbo laughed and took a seat beside the dwarf-prince. They looked out upon the forest that they were just in, still full of orc. They sat in a comfortable silence for awhile, until it started to become quite uncomfortable, for there was something Bilbo couldn’t quite get off his mind.

  
“uh…Thorin?” He asked tentatively.  
“Yes?” said the dwarf.  
“When you awoke, after the eagles brought us here, you asked of me?”  
“…Yes.” Thorin wasn’t sure where this was going.  
“Well, uh, you see…well first of all I’m not bothered by it at all. I was actually quite glad, but…”  
“But what, Bilbo?”  
“Well, with everything that had happened, and your…previous opinion of me, I was just wondering, why?”  
“Why, what?”  
“Why did you ask of me? Last I knew I was the last person you wanted to see.” Bilbo soon regretted saying that, for Thorin looked as if he had just told him that he could never go back to Erebor ever again. “Bilbo, did my embrace and what I said mean nothing to you?”  
“Well, I-”  
“You are a part of the company. My company, it is my duty to make sure you are all safe.“ Thorin paused. “And in case you didn’t hear me before, I was completely wrong about you. What you did back there showed that you are loyal, and you have a more willing heart that I have ever known. Why would think I never meant that?”  
Bilbo found himself feeling quite uncomfortable and stupid for saying what he just did. Yet, there was still a reason, a selfish one really, but it was there.  
“Well, you see…” Bilbo found it suddenly hard to finish his sentence. His whole frame froze, and he felt suddenly cold, the kind of cold that comes over you when you know, in your mind, something is wrong. Thorin could tell something was bothering him, so he put a hand on his back to reassure him. Bilbo flinched, and for a moment even Thorin didn’t know what to do. However, Bilbo longed for the comfort, and leaned back heavily onto the dwarf’s hand. Thorin pulled the hobbit in closer, and instinctively Bilbo rested his head upon Thorin’s shoulder. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, Bilbo found his words.  
“All my life, I have known people. I would invite them over for tea, maybe have a little chat, talk about the weather and the plants in season, but then they would go home, and that would be it. I have never once had a friend. Just people. Just other hobbits who were kind enough to come by and visit. Even as a child I was like this, but I always had my mother for company, since she was the only one who anything much like me. But I grew up, and she died, just as we all must do eventually.”

Bilbo stopped a beat, he could feel Thorin holding him tighter.

“After awhile, I just accepted that I would never be able to be close to anyone, that my only company was really myself. Now, after being on this journey, after getting to know all of you, I found that for the first time in my life…I had friends.”

Tears were starting to burn in Bilbo’s eyes.

“And as happy I was, and still am…there’s a part of me that still refuses to believe that this is happening. That I’m able to be so close to others, and in return, let them be close to me.”

Bilbo pulled away from Thorin, just far enough look into his eyes.

“The reason I asked what I asked is because, even though I was thankful that you asked about me…I was also scared.” Thorin’s expression softened. He placed a hand on Bilbo’s head, running his fingers through the blond curls. “I don’t know why it scared me so much, but it did.” Bilbo made up his mind to stop speaking. A single word further and he would be a blubbering mess. He looked away from Thorin. He had just earned the dwarf’s respect, and a display like this could ruin everything (in Bilbo’s opinion at least).  
Thorin’s hand made its way down Bilbo’s face and under his chin, tipping his head so that he could once again look into his eyes. Bilbo was quite shocked to see that Thorin was smiling. It was a gentle, sad smile, the one that usually meant understanding.

  
“There is nothing wrong about your fears, Bilbo,” Thorin said gently, “it is hard to accept one another’s companionship when you’ve had to rely on yourself for such a long time.” Bilbo smiled in appreciation. Thorin smiled back, a little wider, and wiped away the hobbit’s tears.

  
“Don’t you ever doubt our friendship, especially mine. We are loyal and true to each other. We will see this through to the end, even if we must die doing it.” Bilbo let out a breath, thankful that he didn’t have to suffer Thorin’s wrath. Twice as more thankful that he wrong in his assumptions that the company was only putting up with him for spite. He closed his eyes and leaned against Thorin, who wrapped an arm about his shoulders and pulled him in as close as he could to keep him warm. They both looked to the forest, watching for any movement that could signal an enemy, but it seemed they had all gone away.

  
It wasn’t long until Bilbo was fighting to keep awake. Thorin chuckled as he watched the little hobbit struggle in vain to keep his head up. “Come now hobbit,” said Thorin, speaking to him like child, “like it or not, you need to sleep.” And without another word he quickly scooped him up, and at this point Bilbo was too tired to complain. He quite liked it actually. He liked it a lot. Thorin carried him over to his own bed-roll, away from the others. He unfortunately didn’t have the cunning footing that the hobbit possessed, and would have undeniably woke up the others if he had tried to return Bilbo to his own bed.

  
Thorin’s bed was unusually soft, lined with many pelts and furs. Even out in the wilderness he slept like a king. The thought brought a tired smile to Bilbo’s lips, which widened slowly as Thorin covered him with warm furs, pulling them tight around his shoulders. Bilbo was very close to oblivion now, reality and thoughts started to melt into one another. He saw the Shire as he remembered it as a child. He walked the dirt paths in comfort, and he was not alone this time, for Thorin walked with him as well.  
Bilbo’s breath evened out, and soon he fell into dreams. Thorin brushed the hair back from his forehead, gentle as ever. He planted a slow, gentle kiss there, followed by his cheek, and the corner of Bilbo’s mouth. “Sleep well, my dear hobbit. You’ll never be alone again, not while I’m around.”

  
Somewhere, somehow, inside his dreams, Bilbo heard him.


End file.
